


An Idol Proposition

by GretchenSinister



Series: Indiana Jones-style AU [1]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Archaeology, Inspired by Indiana Jones, M/M, Necromancy, Paleontology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:20:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23312260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GretchenSinister/pseuds/GretchenSinister
Summary: It seemed like a good day to post a blacksand AU, you know?Here’s the return of the Indiana Jones/Necromancy/Related Things AU from forever ago. Cosmo Black is back teaching again, after his…unusual sabbatical…But Dr. Sanderson has a question for him where the answer is most definitely not on the syllabus.(Stands alone if you're willing to roll with the premise.)
Relationships: Pitch Black/Sanderson Mansnoozie
Series: Indiana Jones-style AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2013340
Kudos: 11
Collections: Blacksand Short Fics





	An Idol Proposition

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr on 6/16/16.

Dr. Sanderson ducked into the lecture hall just in time to hear Dr. Black say, in an impressively bored voice, “and that concludes our first lecture of Introduction to Paleontology. Does anyone have any questions?”

Every hand shot up.

Dr. Black surveyed the class. True, his eyes were gray again, not the strange blazing yellow they had been one year before, but Dr. Sanderson was willing to be that they could still give more than a few undergraduates the chills. Those eyes always sent shivers up his spine, anyway. But then again perhaps he was biased.

“I will remind you,” said Dr. Black, “that the university has granted me discretion to automatically fail any student that brings up the incident involving the Field Museum in any of my classes.”

Nearly every hand went down, some more reluctantly than others. Dr. Black glanced between the few people with hands still raised. “Does anyone have any questions that have answers that are unlikely to be found on the syllabus? Check the copies that I know you have and think carefully.”

The rest of the hands slowly went down. Dr. Sanderson, however, chose the moment to cheekily raise one of his own. The movement caught Dr. Black’s eye and, off-guard, he startled and a grin flashed across his face. “Right! Class dismissed!”

“Sandy!” Dr. Black said, shoving his lecture notes carelessly into a briefcase, never taking his eyes off him. It should have been troubling that he retained a remnant of the intensity that he had unwillingly adopted during the incident, but Sandy couldn’t help but enjoy it, to his probable downfall. “How long were you there? Was it ghastly? I mean, thank god for tenure, but…” He sighed hugely. “They’re not letting me do anything but intro classes—certainly I’m never even going to get to sniff at anything practical for possibly the rest of my career.” He glared at Sandy. “I have you to thank for that, you know. But, that’s only because I have you to thank for my being here at all. Really, though, how was it?”

“I wasn't here that long,” Sandy said. “You look well, though, Cosmo.”

“Do I really?” Cosmo stretched out his arms, showing off his simple black blazer and dark gray trousers. “I have to admit, that after last year…I still feel that my clothes fit somewhat oddly.”

Sandy forced himself to merely shrug. Cosmo’s adventures last year _had_ rather changed him, shaving away the bit of softness that had been growing on him like moss on a bookish stone and giving him some lean muscle on his tall, thin frame, and, well…it was no wonder he thought a professor’s clothes fit him oddly after spending so much time wearing a flamboyant flowing robe that showed off most of his chest. Would have been positively indecent to give a lecture in that, though.

“You look professorial, let me say,” said Sandy. “Now, have you forgotten? I raised my hand, I have a question for you. Care to get a cup of coffee?”

Cosmo grimaced. “I know it’s only 2:30, but that was my last class of the day. Can we get something a little stronger?”

“They’ve got you on an early schedule, you poor thing.”

“Anything to make me keep daylight hours, I suspect. Well, old fr—Sandy?”

“The Half Moon,” Sandy said, not without a pang. Cosmo was doubtless trying to spare his feelings, knowing that he had recently called Sandy ‘old friend’ in a great number of unusual and unpleasant circumstances, but despite that, Sandy missed the term of affection. And since he couldn’t very well ask for anything more—well, he would have to make do with fond memories. The fact that he characterized many of his more recent memories as fond…ah, why the hell not? He had already had to admit a certain great oddity in himself during the incident, what was a little more?

“So, what _did_ you want to ask me?” Cosmo leaned forward, his long fingers wrapped loosely around an intimidatingly large glass of whiskey. “I assume it wasn’t just to come out for coffee.”

Sandy smiled and drew a small notebook from the inside pocket of his jacket. “First, I have to tell you something.” He leaned toward Cosmo now—for the sake of secrecy, of course. “Just this morning, I was visited by a pair of gentlemen from, I believe, our government, though they didn’t actually say. But I think I’ve learned to identify the type. And they came to me with a file full of documents that give a very good lead to…” He paused. _Uh-oh_ , he thought, _maybe I’ve gained too much of a flair for the dramatic over the past year as well_. He wasn’t Cosmo’s opponent now, for heaven’s sake, and they had no audience, not even poor Jack. “The Golden Idol of the Eight Thousand Celestial Lovers.”

“What!” Cosmo leaned yet closer. “Do you know the _power_ contained in that thing? Most sources that mention it speak of it as a myth, but if it exists, if the myths are true…ah…” He swallowed nervously and sat back, tugging at his collar. “That is, if the myths are true, the limits of our reality would be as nothing to whoever held it. But…those are myths. Yes. It is simply an important ancient artifact, one of the jewels in your field.” He paused. “But if the myths are true, then its full powers won’t work without its mate. The Black Idol of the Eight Thousand Celestial Lovers. And _that_ is supposed to be cursed. Uh, again, I know that’s simply a story, etcetera, and why would you need to find both when the stories about them are, after all, just stories…”

Sandy smiled fondly. “Remember, I was the one who handled your…unusual sabbatical.”

Cosmo burst out laughing, long and loud and uninhibited, though more warmly than he had last year. Sandy was so glad he had mostly kept the laugh. It was so lovely and infectious once the cold and maniacal parts were taken out, and he had hardly heard it before. “Unusual sabbatical? I became a practicing necromancer! I raised the entire collection of the Field Museum, and more! I threatened your life and the life of one of your poor students with a saber-toothed cat! I was _possessed_. Unusual sabbatical!” He laughed again, then frowned deeply. “And I learned so much, too, but all my research was confiscated and I’ve been forbidden from writing a book even from my memory.” He narrowed his eyes and tapped his fingers on the table. “There _has_ to be a way around that ban. Anyway.” He shrugged fluidly. “But why bring that up? Of course I know what you did for me, despite the outrageous things I did and said.”

"I mentioned it because you were treating me like I was some strange archaeologist buying you a drink on a Thursday afternoon. Cosmo, after dealing with you, I’d be a total nincompoop to dismiss the stories about these idols as mere stories. More on heaven and Earth, Horatio, as the lit profs say. And besides," Sandy went on, even as he looked down to his own glass, "as we grew apart, I…was often tasked with the recovery of rare and unusual items. None _quite_ as rare or unusual as you, but your research methods did not shock me as much as the fact that it was _you_ using them.”

"You never told me anything like that!“

Sandy tilted his head. "To all appearances, you’d completely given up our once-mutual interest in archaeology to become a serious paleontologist. I assumed you wouldn’t be interested in hearing any of it. And, well, with some of it I was sworn to secrecy.”

"So you didn’t guess that I left our field because I knew that as long as you were in it, I wouldn’t be able to be the best?"

Sandy took a sip of his drink to hide any sort of reaction he might have to that statement. "Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “Anyway, we’re getting off-topic. It’s clear to me from the catalog of items confiscated from your house that you _had_ retained or rekindled your interest in antiquities. And so, you’re here, and I’ve told you about my lead on the Golden Idol, and you knew what I was talking about, and so on.”

"Yes, well, anything with that kind of power…it was, ah, frequently mentioned in my review of the literature. I’m actually astonished that these government types have a good lead on it. I believe I had a very good collection of texts both practical and theoretical, and there were no practical hints towards finding the thing at all." He leaned forward again, resting his forearms on the table. "What makes you think they were serious? Why does the government think it exists at all?”

"It would be hard to explain why I think their lead is legitimate without showing you what they left with me, and it’s kind of oversized for a blazer pocket," Sandy said. "But I do think they’re serious, and as for how they obtained the lead—your collection is—was—impressive, Cosmo. But you don’t have spies or a thousand people to analyze weird magazine clippings and auction catalogs for you. 

"Now, all that could easily point to the existence of the idol, the artifact itself. And that would be incredibly exciting for me and a great many people I know.”

"But why does the government care?" 

"Exactly.” Sandy opened his notebook again and lifted a photograph from between the last page and the back cover. He placed it on the table and nudged it into a sliver of afternoon sunlight fighting its way past the bar’s heavy green curtains.

In the photo, four men in military uniforms stood around…nothing. A black smudge half their height, a mistake in processing or—

"The Black Idol," Cosmo breathed. "Or, um, a flaw in the film, could be anything, absolutely anything.”

Sandy flipped the photo over. A crude, but unsettling, drawing was taped to the back. “The photographer sketched the statue before taking the picture. Also, when it’s not on film, it’s a little less than knee height.”

"So that’s why the government cares,“ Cosmo said. "The Germans have the Black Idol.”

"Yes, and I understand they’re throwing everything they can into finding the Golden Idol as well."

"Well, I doubt anyone other than the Germans wants them to have both,” Cosmo said. 

"Exactly," Sandy said. He tried to keep his delight contained to his eyes, and only mostly succeeded. "So our government has very politely, and very secretly, asked me to go get the Golden Idol before the Germans do.”

"Sandy!" Cosmo yelped, then shut his mouth abruptly enough to make his teeth click. "I don’t know if that’s going to be any less dangerous than going after me was.”

"You’re not wrong," Sandy said. "And that’s what I wanted to ask you about. Would you consider coming with me? Working with me?”

Cosmo stared at him for a long moment before leaning slowly back against the scuffed leather of the booth. “Oh, Sandy,” he said, drawing out the words, “you mustn’t tempt me like this.”

Sandy laughed, wasn’t sure it was the right kind of laugh, and barreled on into his further arguments before being able to fix Cosmo’s most recent sentence in his mind forever. “It’s not just for the sake of our old friendship that I’m asking you,” he said. “What with the obscurity of the idols, we’re probably the foremost American experts on the subject. We’re also used to dealing with very weird shit, if you’ll pardon me.”

"If you have only two experts, you only send one," Cosmo said, now leaning forward again. "And why not get Jack to help you again?”

"Aside from the fact that he’d probably refuse, well…look." Sandy tapped his fingers on the table. "The Germans haven’t been able to make the Black Idol _do_ anything yet. So it seems like a good bet that they won’t be able to make the pair of idols do anything even if they do get the golden one.”

Cosmo narrowed his eyes. “Then why are the G-men worried? Is there something the Germans could still try that they just haven’t gotten around to, yet?”

"Actually, yes. And once they have the idols, they’ll probably be going after everything they need for that next step."

"And what does that have to do with me—every expert on the idols other than us is dead. That’s what this has to do with me.”

Sandy found Cosmo’s expression impossible to read. “I’m not going to ask you to risk yourself by…seeking the advice of those other experts. I don’t think we’ll need them, especially because my task is only to bring the Golden Idol back to America. And, well…I mean, would they really have shown me the picture of the Germans guarding the Black Idol if they didn’t want me to make a detour and get it, too?”

Cosmo smiled a little. “Yes, you’ve got to read between the lines when dealing with the public sector, now don’t you?”

"I've _absolutely_ got to. Anyway, the point is, I don’t need to talk to anyone that’s six feet under, because I’m not trying to use it—them." Sandy met Cosmo’s eyes. "I want you to come with me so that you don’t end up kidnapped by Nazis.”

"Yes…" Cosmo glanced away. "I think that would be a bad business all around. But wait.” He turned sharply back to Sandy. “Why would the Nazis try to get me to be their own personal necromancer? I didn’t have much contact with any others, but I _know_ they’re out there. And there are probably necromancers much easier for them to kidnap than an American citizen currently residing in America.”

"That’s true…how do I put this, Cosmo? Fraudsters pop up like mushrooms as soon as the ground gets damp with the hint of the supernatural. Exaggerated claims are even more common. But, you…you are very definitely, very obviously, the real thing. What you did…it made all the international papers. Your skills are a sure thing."

"Even though to all appearances I’ve been rehabilitated,” Cosmo said, more to himself than as a rebuttal. “Sandy…you said it yourself. This is a situation that involves some very, very weird shit.” His voice lowered. “I’m only used to dealing with shit that weird in one way. Otherwise, I’m just an academic. I don’t have a bullwhip or even a solid right hook. I know you said you don’t want to risk my recovery, but…” He licked his lips unconsciously. “I don’t want to try to collect the Golden Idol or the Black Idol unprepared. I need to have access to everything they took from my house before I feel ready to join you.”

"I can do that," Sandy said.

Cosmo’s eyes widened and his mouth opened in perfect surprise. "What was all that about my recovery, then? You’re just going to let me have access to my books, my reagents, my equipment—”

"I didn’t want to scare you off," Sandy said. "I was waiting for you to ask. Anyway, I’ll know what to do this time if you start losing your grip.”

Cosmo smiled. “I really think I know how to avoid that, now.” The smile vanished. “What are we going to tell the university?”

"I was thinking, absolutely nothing." Sandy raised an eyebrow and shrugged a little. "That is, I tell the G-men that I accept, the university marks down everything nice and official for me, we break into the storeroom that has all your stuff—maybe not even break in, there’s info on the idols there that I could reasonably want, isn’t there?—and then we board a plane before you’re even supposed to be at your first class of the day.”

Sandy watched Cosmo’s face carefully. He seemed to be struggling with himself, trying to decide which second chance he wanted to take. Sandy realized he was holding his breath waiting for the answer. It would be infinitely wiser for Cosmo to say no, to endure some boring classes and perhaps some protective custody in order to get on with his life. But it wouldn’t be his full life. It couldn’t. There was something about Cosmo that simply couldn’t be contained in the university. Sandy saw him chafing at his bonds every day. He was familiar with the feeling. Not enough to start raising the dead, but enough to obtain a bullwhip and develop a solid right hook.

Finally, gloriously, Cosmo grinned. Sandy had never seen that grin combined with Cosmo’s human eyes before, and it was almost enough to give him a heart attack. “All right. I’m in. For purely selfless purposes, you understand. Helping you find one idol and liberate the other will doubtless benefit humanity more than my continuing to teach Paleontology 101 would.”

"Of course,“ Sandy said, allowing his own grin to spread across his face. "I understand your motives completely.”

Cosmo laughed nervously and tried to take a drink from his empty cup. “There’s just one more thing I…look, Sandy, I know that when you were sent to stop me, I…said, and did, some things that were probably appalling to you, personally, rather than the laws of nature in general. I…I can promise nothing of the sort will happen on this journey. I just wanted to make sure you knew that. I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable about traveling alone with me.”

"Old friend,“ Sandy said, "there’s nothing about you that would make me feel uncomfortable being alone with you. And there’s no one I’d rather go on this kind of adventure with than you. That’s always been true." _So I hope it’ll be all right that I hope very much for you to have an excuse to break that promise you just made._

Cosmo smiled at him in relief. "In that case, I had better go pack, hadn’t I?”

"Leave room for the Black Idol in your suitcase,“ Sandy said. "I’ll leave room for the Golden.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments from Tumblr:
> 
> incurablenecromantic reblogged this from gretchensinister: #oh look what rose out of the depths of my beleaguered subconscious to remind me that life's worth living #one of gretchensinster's aus naturally #i am definitely at the point of career dissatisfaction that i will start raising the dead any fucking day now #so i sympathize #this series doesn't so much kick my ass as serve it to me on a platter at a table dressed in fine linen
> 
> emeraldembers reblogged this from gretchensinister and added:  
> “There was something about Cosmo that simply couldn’t be contained in the university. Sandy saw him chafing at his bonds every day. He was familiar with the feeling. Not enough to start raising the dead, but enough to obtain a bullwhip and develop a solid right hook.“ 
> 
> Okay, see, there are multiple reasons why I love you, multiple and varied reasons, but THIS RIGHT HERE IS ONE OF THEM.
> 
> Oh god this feels like *such* a perfect introduction to an epic adventure, like the sheer excitement and joy of any of the Exposition Time scenes in the Indiana Jones movies where half the excitement is knowing where all that lead up is going to go to, and just, fff. The tension between them is so sweet and cute and of course ‘old friend’ OF COURSE you would do that to me of course
> 
> I am so glad I wrestled Tumblr into letting me view your messages because if I had missed this it would’ve been a god damn tragedy <3\. #Indiana Jones #I MEAN OKAY STRICTLY SPEAKING IT ISN'T BUT IN EVERY WAY THAT MATTERS IT IS
> 
> sylphidine reblogged this from gretchensinister and added:  
> Now I need to read whatever preceded this. Link, please? This is right up my alley.
> 
> thismightyneed reblogged this from gretchensinister and added:  
> I live and breath for this kind of AUs and the only regret is not actually having a full on novel about such adventurious shenanigans on full glory
> 
> tejoxys reblogged this from marypsue: #!!#I always loved this au and it just keeps getting better#'like moss on a bookish stone' pffft this paragraph is great#ohoho the significance of 'old friend' yes#'The Golden Idol of the Eight Thousand Celestial Lovers' aRE YOU SERIOUS I JUST LOST MY SHIT#THE BLACK IDOL OF- !#pfhahahaha them talking so casually about having a chat with all those other experts#the paragraph containing 'but enough to obtain a bullwhip' is another of my favorites#'-for an excuse to break that promise you just made' LMAO DO IT#this is so good Gretchen this is perfectly in-genre and I love it
> 
> marypsue reblogged this from gretchensinister: #I'm reblogging this again because it made my morning and it's great
> 
> the-ink-kettle reblogged this from gretchensinister and added:  
> This is very interesting. #I hope you continue this


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